


Wrote on a Scrap of Paper, Hand Shimmered

by Sir Legowisko (viintaas)



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Gen, Jeff is losing money for Harold's sake, M/M, OOC?, Silly Convesation, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:07:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viintaas/pseuds/Sir%20Legowisko
Summary: Somewhere on his way to Hyperion HQ, Blake turn the ECHO Comm on and hear something only his superior could wrote.
Relationships: Jeffrey Blake/Harold Tassiter
Kudos: 4





	Wrote on a Scrap of Paper, Hand Shimmered

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Caeleste Color](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22108639) by [Господин Леговишько (viintaas)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/viintaas/pseuds/%D0%93%D0%BE%D1%81%D0%BF%D0%BE%D0%B4%D0%B8%D0%BD%20%D0%9B%D0%B5%D0%B3%D0%BE%D0%B2%D0%B8%D1%88%D1%8C%D0%BA%D0%BE). 



Somewhere on his way to Hyperion HQ, Blake turn the ECHO Comm on.

“ _Hyperion wishes Helios station good luck in its search for alien technology and precious minerals! Except Chairman Tassiter, who wrote the words “eat my butt” on a scrap of paper and sent it through the ECHOnet._ ”

Mr. Blake’s lips twitched as his echo spoke, yet laughing at his superior’s slip – even if he’s not in the same hover car – Blake couldn’t afford. Unethical behavior is a thing Tassiter prefer to witness with his own eyes. Or ears.

Blake switched channels, secured connection; honed his voice just a bit, as if nothing was heard seconds earlier.

“I’m apologize for calling you at such early hour, sir”. Tassiter asked him to drop the attitude, nobody was around at his end. “Anyway, Harold, why did you write… the thing… on just a scrap?”

“Dear, you tell me, am I an idiot to actually use something bigger than just a scrap? Hard times we live in; paper became unaffordable in such amounts even for me!” Oh, Jeffrey immediately thought, did he forget? But his voice wasn’t give away any sig _h_ ns of doubt for his actions.

Couldn’t be that Harold Tassiter finally has become old enough for such foolishness…

Jeffrey agreed nevertheless. “Good point, I may guess. Before we hung up, however, I must insure you with this: R&D have finally finished the blueprints of the new generation railgun; excuse me for not remember how exactly it was named. As you’ve been instructing, I will bring them to you later today. You will have to…”

“Aren’t you trying to teach me how to use scanner.”

He tried to put his words carefully. “… _digitalize_ them, after your expectations are met and you are satisfied with everything.”

Harold grunted strangely; he was capable of making every known weird sound, yet he’d never sounded like a horse before. And he didn’t notice. Jeffrey started worrying.

“I know what I am doing with all the papers!” Followed with soft rustling; Harold clearly was searching for something, and then he asked:

“Well now, wait. Don’t you play your detective tricks on me again, Jeff, you want something for me to do.”

Jeffrey coughed just in time for not being heard laughing. “Then I would simply tell you.”

“Scrap of paper and a small piece of paper, -- not our blueprints or anything related, -- are entirely different things by the definition; you are aware of that I have plenty on my table. So, you are, _again_ , trying to criticize me for not always clean up my desk? Would you kindly explain yourself, mister Wearing-His-Tie-Dyed-Up-With-Mustard, before I call you My Mommy and stuff a pillow with all the shredded documentation John sent me?” Meanwhile, Jeffrey had stopped at little roadside coffee shop and looked at its menu. “Aren’t you also going to say something about me having regular meals? I have tea in my office for a reason you are very well aware of.”

“I’m sorry, I did not mean any of this. Please, Harry, better tell me, which one you want? I’m at coffee stop.”

“Whichever you like.”

“Latte or double espresso?”

“Latte. Buy me one.”

“Two lattes, please.” He took the coffee. “Thank you. Have a good day.” And got his car back on the way to Floating Islands HQ. “All I wanted to say that there is a chance you may have been carelessly take a photo of a document you had on you table lying around, and by chance posted it where you shouldn’t be.”

“You are blaming me for being busy? I have little time to deal with all the crap the scanner can spit out!”

It was quiet on his end for a while; only clicking sound was heard.

The message Jeffrey heard earlier this morning played again.

“Forget about any promotions”, said Harold in a dead voice, aware that it’s just a threat he gave everyone who dare to disappoint him. “After not immediately telling me about this, you will get your pay check cut off at half.”

Harold was at the state of madness Jeffrey called quiet rage. This time, it lasted for dozens of minutes.

“How do I delete this?!”

It was too late. Everyone in HQ and its branches must have been heard the message right after it was sent to Hyperion Voice Lady; Harold sure understood but he needed the illusion of control, and here was Jeffrey to at least redirect his anger to something else.

“Wasn’t there an option to delete, under the message?”

“There’s nothing!”

“Contact our technical support? Our corporate politics are, as I am remembering…”

“As _I am remembering_ , -- you are talking with its creator, -- if an employee cannot fix the problem by themselves and said problem doesn’t require any special skills to be resolved, the employee will have been reprimanded, thus their denied from getting the bonus at the end of at least a quarter! If said case was their first.”

“Sir.”

“I said to drop your attitude and…” Harold swore. “You are too smart, you know. You will get only a half of your bonus.”

The bonus Harold spoke about is something about 2 000 credits. At his position, Jeffrey didn’t care if his pay check would be cut for some thousands of bonus credits; to be quite honest, he did but, if losing money means make Harold eager to do something he will later enjoy, why not. That’s the cost.

“Well, you could hire John as he had lost not only his bonus, but half of his payment as well.”

“He-he, he, no, my dearest. No. You will need more than you have earned to even build me a tent of your money, so I could only withstand this roach’s presence!”

“I’m absolutely not insisting”, Jeffrey smiled, and Harold sure felt it through his softened voice. “I’ll be up there soon.”

“If my coffee will be cold at the time you get to me, I’ll be sure to dock your wages for it’s cost!”


End file.
